Every step forward felt like walking into a storm, but storms have a way of revealing strength you didn’t know you had.

Manik's POV,

I reached the office right on time, as always, and stepped out of the elevator onto the fifteenth floor, expecting everything to be in place and everyone to be where they should be. For a brief second, I scanned the floor out of habit and immediately noticed something off—she wasn’t here. Nandini, my new secretary, was supposed to be here early, going over my schedule and prepping the files I needed for today. But there was no sign of her.

I approached the receptionist, keeping my voice calm even though irritation was building. “Has Miss Murthy come in yet?”

The receptionist hesitated, glancing down at her records. “Uh, no, Mr. Malhotra. She hasn’t arrived yet.”

I felt a spark of annoyance. It was only her second day, and she was already late? I’ve made it clear that this isn’t the kind of place where people get away with slacking. Mistakes, especially simple ones, are something I can’t stand. I don’t waste time on excuses.

I went to my cabin, already planning what I’d say to her when she finally decided to show up. I barely sat down when I noticed movement outside my cabin door. Through the one-way mirror, I could see Nandini standing outside, her eyes closed, hands pressed together in what I could only assume was a prayer. A small, involuntary chuckle escaped me as I watched her lips move, most likely whispering some frantic plea to avoid getting fired.

She looked so nervous, almost adorable in her panic, and for a moment, the irritation eased slightly. I knew exactly what was going through her mind. She was preparing herself to face me, expecting the worst. And, well, I couldn’t really blame her. I’ve built my reputation on being straightforward, efficient, and unwilling to tolerate nonsense.

After a deep breath, she finally knocked on the door. I composed myself, erasing any trace of amusement from my face, and responded, “Come in.”

She opened the door slowly, hesitating on the threshold before stepping fully into the room. I looked up, raising an eyebrow as she stood there, looking like she was ready to stammer out an apology before I even said a word.

“Miss Murthy, this is not how we work here,” I began, keeping my tone steady but firm. “This is not a park where you can come according to your own preference; this is an office. You’re already late on your second day, and if you repeat this, I will not hesitate to fire you.”

Her face went pale, and I could see her struggling to find the words. She finally managed a small, shaky, “I—I’m so sorry, Mr. Malhotra. I overslept and I—”

I held up a hand, cutting her off. “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again. Now, my schedule?”

“Yes, of course,” she said quickly, visibly relieved to move on to something she could actually control. She scanned her notes, I nodded approvingly, watching her as she went through the details.

“Good. Make sure you’re fully prepared for each of these, and don’t forget to bring the files I’ll need for each meeting,” I instructed. “And I need you to draft an update email for the board after the lunch meeting.”

She gave a small nod. “Understood, Mr. Malhotra.”

“Then that’s all for now. Make sure to be on time from now on, Miss Murthy.” I dismissed her, watching as she nodded once more, clearly eager to escape my scrutiny.

She backed out of the office, closing the door softly behind her. Through the glass, I could see her exhale a sigh of relief, her shoulders visibly relaxing. A small smirk tugged at my lips. She’d survived her first real run-in with me, but she didn’t know yet that this was only the beginning. I had high expectations, and she’d have to work hard to meet them.

The rest of the morning passed with a steady stream of meetings, reports, and the usual work that filled my day.
At exactly 8 p.m., I pressed the intercom to call her into my office. She walked in, looking slightly worn out but still alert.

“You’re free to leave now, Miss Murthy,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “And remember, I expect you here on time tomorrow. No exceptions.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, her voice steady. As she turned to go, I added, “And keep the files for tomorrow ready by morning.”

She nodded again, clearly relieved, and left without another word.

After she was gone, I leaned back in my chair, glancing over the files she’d prepared for today. She might be new and slightly rough around the edges, but she had potential.

At night, I sat back in the plush armchair in the living room, sipping on coffee, the warmth of the drink easing the tension from the long day. The house was quiet, the evening winding down as mom and dad, sat across from me, discussing something about work. Without warning, someone closed my eyes.

A familiar voice rang out, "Guess who?" I didn’t even need a second to think. "Mukti," I said with a grin, my voice laced with amusement. I could feel her smile before she even responded.

"Smart guy," she teased, her voice warm, as she released her hands from my eyes. I turned to face her, and before I could even stand up, I was enveloped in a tight hug. She squeezed me with enough force to knock the air out of me, but I didn’t mind. Mukti had always been like a sister to me, the kind of friend who could always bring a smile to my face with her random antics.

"You’ve been gone forever, Muku," I muttered, chuckling as I pulled back slightly to look at her. Mukti gave me that mischievous look of hers and then turned her attention to my parents, who had been sitting quietly watching the exchange with smiles on their faces. Mom reached out and pulled Mukti into a warm embrace.

"How was the exhibition, baby?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine care. "It was wonderful, Aunty," Mukti replied, her voice bright with excitement. "The crowd was amazing, and I sold almost all of my pieces." Dad smiled approvingly. "I’m glad to hear that. You know, your work has always been impressive." Mukti beamed at the compliment. "Thank you, uncle," she said.

Mukti then turned to me, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, how's the ruthless CEO doing these days?" she teased, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Still scaring your poor employees?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to suppress a grin. “Don’t start with me, Muku,” I replied, leaning against the back of the couch. “You know I only push people to be the best versions of themselves. It’s all for the greater good.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying my words. "Oh, sure, 'greater good.' We all know it's just an excuse for your 'I'm too busy to care about your feelings' act."

I rolled my eyes dramatically, then shot back, “You know me too well.” There was no use trying to defend myself against Mukti’s playful jabs. She was one of the few people who could truly get under my skin.

After a few more moments of teasing, I asked, "When's Alya coming back?" Mukti shrugged casually. "Her flight’s tomorrow morning. She’ll be here by late afternoon, so we’re both going to pick her up from the airport." She paused, then added with a grin, "So, get ready for some much-needed 'girl talk' when we get back. You won’t be able to escape it this time."

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Great. Just what I need after a long day.” I said it sarcastically which she royally ignored.

Dad and Mom then got up to leave. “We’ll let you both settle in,” Dad said, smiling warmly at Mukti. “You’re staying the night, right?”

“Yes, Uncle,” Mukti responded. “I’ll head to the guest room and get some rest. It’s been a long trip.” She moved toward the guest room, calling over her shoulder, “Goodnight, Manik, and don’t stay up too late. We have to pick Alya.”

"Don't worry, Muku," I said, smiling after her as she walked down the hallway. "I’ll be sure to get plenty of rest, just in case I have to deal with you two tomorrow."

Mom and Dad left to retire for the night, and I sat back down on the couch and finished my drink in silence, then I stood up, stretched, and made my way toward my bedroom.

Manik's POV ends.

Nandini’s POV,

Sitting at my desk, I glanced over the file I was reviewing, jotting down notes on the corner of a page, trying to make sense of the endless figures. My mind drifted in and out of focus, struggling to stay grounded in the task. Then my phone rang, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked at the screen, and as soon as I saw the name, I felt an unwelcome knot tighten in my chest. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe steadily, but I could feel the familiar rush of emotions bubbling up, clawing their way back to the surface.

“You’ve humiliated this family—don’t expect us to stand by you anymore.”

The words echoed in my head, sharp and cutting as ever. I felt myself flinch, but I clenched my jaw, willing myself to stay calm. I couldn’t let those words get to me. Not anymore. They were just words, just echoes of a time I wished I could forget.

I took a steadying breath, opened my eyes, and picked up the call. I didn't say anything—just waited. Letting them speak first was always easier. It gave me a moment to prepare, to armor myself against whatever was about to be said.

There was a brief silence on the other end, but then the voice came, cold and straightforward, with not a trace of warmth or familiarity. “You need to be here tomorrow. By 10 a.m. sharp. Don’t be late.”

I swallowed, pressing my lips together to keep my voice steady. This was just routine by now, after all. Instructions without explanations, demands without kindness. The calm tone I forced out surprised even me. “Okay,” I said, barely a whisper, keeping any hint of emotion out of it. No anger, no sadness, just… nothing. I didn’t want them to hear even the slightest crack in my voice.

The call ended as abruptly as it had come. No goodbye, no pleasantries. I stared at the screen for a second before setting the phone down, and in the silence of my room, I felt the tension unraveling, the tight grip I’d kept on my emotions slipping away. I let out a shaky breath, feeling a hollow ache settle in my chest as I looked up at the ceiling.

Why did it still hurt? I’d told myself I’d moved on, that I didn’t need them to care, that I didn’t need their approval. But even after all these years, their words, their indifference—it still stung in ways I couldn’t ignore.

I blinked, and suddenly felt the warmth of tears escaping, slipping down my cheeks and catching me off guard. I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding them back. The tears came slow at first, silent and steady, tracing paths down my face, carrying with them the weight of things I wished I could say, things I wished I could change.

But I knew better. There was no point in holding on to the “what-ifs.” No one would listen. No one cared.

Without wiping away the tears, I closed my eyes, letting the quiet of my room soothe me, letting the soft hum of the night blur the edges of my sadness. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and I drifted off to sleep, alone with my thoughts and the aching silence.

I woke up early, the soft rays of sunlight creeping through the curtains and landing on my face. The alarm blared, and I instantly shut it off, rubbing my eyes, feeling the weight of the day already pressing on my shoulders. I was supposed to be calm, collected, and the perfect daughter. But today was different. Today, I had to face them. The people who didn’t care about me, the people who sent me away like some sort of inconvenience. The people who made me feel like a burden, like a mistake that could never be erased.

I dragged myself out of bed and stared at myself in the mirror, trying to steady my breathing. I could do this. I had to do this. There was no other option. I took a deep breath and began to get ready, each movement mechanical, as if my body was on autopilot. My mind, however, was anything but calm. It was like a storm, a whirlwind of emotions, fears, and uncertainties.

Part of me was excited, I won’t lie. It had been so long since I’d spoken to them since I’d been home, and in some strange way, I was yearning for their approval, for some sign that they still cared. But the other part of me, the angry, hurt part, was boiling beneath the surface, threatening to explode. They didn’t deserve me. They didn’t deserve my respect. Yet, here I was, getting ready to face them, to once again be the perfect daughter they could show off to the world.

“Calm down,” I whispered to myself as I pulled on my shoes. “You can do this. You’ve gotten this far. You’ve survived worse. Just focus. Get a grip.”

I looked back at my reflection in the mirror, trying to hold my emotions together. My hands shook slightly as I adjusted my hair, but I didn’t let it show. I couldn’t afford to. Not today.
I picked up my phone, glancing at the time. 8:45 AM. I had about an hour and fifteen minutes before I had to be there. My heart started racing again. I hadn’t seen them in years. The distance felt like it had been years, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for the confrontation. But what choice did I have?

I grabbed my purse, my hands shaking as I clasped it tightly. I was about to leave when I paused by the door. For a brief moment, I just stood there, my back against the cool wood, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. Every word I had heard from my father, every look from my mother, the harsh silence that had lingered between us all these months—it was all crashing down on me at once.

I let out a shaky breath and pushed the door open. "You’ve got this,"

The drive was almost a blur. I kept my hands on the wheel, trying to focus on the road, but my mind kept drifting back to them. To what they might say. To what they might think of me now, after all this time. What if I wasn’t enough? What if they found some reason to criticize me, to judge me?

I shook my head, trying to dispel the thoughts, but they wouldn’t go away. They never did.

By the time I reached it, I was a bundle of nerves, my hands clammy on the steering wheel. I parked the car in front of the familiar house, the place I used to call home. The place that no longer felt like home.
I sat there for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying to calm myself before stepping out of the car. "You can do this," I whispered again, though the words didn’t feel as strong as they did before.

With one final deep breath, I got out of the car and walked toward the door. The nerves were unbearable now. Every step I took felt like I was walking straight into a battlefield.

Hope you all like the chapter.....

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Kiara ❤️❤️